My Perfect Hell

“First day of work,” Beka mumbled, panic hitting her as she paced the room back and forth, wishing the ground would swallow her. She’d practiced with Mariah, letting the other woman touch her and hug her, but nothing could prepare her for what she was about to do. Mariah had told her that her father had special allowances for rape victims. She’d get to adapt to it slowly, but eventually she’d have to do five men a night, approximately. Depending on the demand apparently, but that was the general number per night. For the next week though, she “only” had to do one a night, and then she’d move up slowly. She supposed it was better than having to do five straight away, but the idea still made her want to throw up.

“Rebekah?” It was Mariah peeking her head in. “Are you ready?” Beka nodded, trying to fight off the tears that were forming in her eyes.

“I have to do this,” she reminded herself, “I have no choice. I have to stop fretting. It’s my only way of survival.” Mariah came in and looked her over. Beka was wearing a see-through black negligee with underwear she hadn’t tried before. Basque, G-string, suspenders…the whole thing. She felt extremely uncomfortable, but apparently these were her “work clothes.” If you could call it clothes. She also wore a lot more make up than usual, and her hair had been pulled back with silver slides. Mariah smiled, trying to cheer her up.

“You look lovely,” she said, trying to sound positive. Beka snorted. As if she cared if she looked lovely or not! Mariah sighed.

“I’m so sorry about this,” she whispered, “I really am. But I promise, you will adapt to it. They all do.” It was very hard to believe. How could she possibly get used to it? Mariah’s head spun around and her eyes widened.

“Ok,” she said, “I think they’re coming. Remember, the better you are, the more tips you’ll get!” Beka swallowed. Could she do this? The answer was simple. Of course she couldn’t. But she had to. So she would. Mariah slipped out of the door just as her father and a man who seemed a little older than Beka and actually decent-looking came in.

“This is Rebekah,” Mariah’s father said and the man gave her a smile. “She’s new here and a little inexperienced, but I’m sure you’ll enjoy her.” He turned around and left, closing the door behind him. The man gave Beka an expectant look and she walked towards him, swaying her hips seducing even though her heart was beating so hard in her chest she thought it might just pop out. As he put his hand on her waist she wanted to scream and run, but she knew she couldn’t. She had to do this.

****

When he’d left the room, she dropped her façade and started to wreck in sobs as she pulled her knees up and hugged herself. It had been like getting raped all over again, only this time, she’d had to pretend to enjoy it. Tears ran down her cheeks and she was wrecking in sobs. The hefty tip he’d left her didn’t matter. She had to get away. She couldn’t be doing this. She tried to wipe her tears away, but her face was soaking wet. Suddenly, the door opened and Beka rubbed her face on the duvet, trying to erase all the traces of her crying.

“Rebekah?” It was Mariah’s voice, and Beka fell back onto the pillow. She didn’t answer, and the woman went up and sat at the end of the bed. “I know,” she said quickly, and then sat silently, letting Beka recover. She sat up, trying to stop herself from sobbing.

“Does it get any better?” she whispered. Mariah hesitated.

“I thought…I brought another woman who works here. She came here five months ago, after being raped. I thought maybe talking to her would help you.” Beka thought about it for a second. If other people had managed to get used to it before her, maybe she could as well? She nodded to Mariah, who smiled at her. “That’s good,” she said, “I think she might be able to help you.”

“Can I just get dressed first?” Her “work clothes” were scattered on the floor, and she’d rather wear the very covering clothes Mariah had first given her. Mariah nodded.

“I’ll be outside,” she said, “just come out when you’re ready.” Beka nodded and as Mariah left, she inched herself out of the bed. Moving over to the wardrobe, she cringed as she saw herself in the mirror. Bruising fingerprints and small wounds still adorned her body, reminding her of what had happened. She quickly grabbed her clothes and put them on, efficiently covering her body. She then picked up the money he had given her. It was a lot, probably more than she’d get paid for that night. She went over and opened the door, forcing a smile. Mariah smiled and left, and she glanced at the other woman. She looked a little older, and she wasn’t sure what race she was, but she was quite pretty with dark wavy hair nearly down to her waist.

“Hello,” she said carefully, “I’m Adna. Can I come in?” Beka nodded and let the woman in. She threw a glance at the bed, which was in disarray and winced. Adna however, didn’t seem to mind.

“Just had a customer then?” she asked casually as she sat down on the bed, as if it was the most normal thing in the world. Beka supposed that to her, it was.

“Yeah,” she whispered, “my first.” Adna looked up at her.

“I know,” she said. “You were raped, weren’t you?” Beka flinched. She couldn’t believe how direct this woman was. She nodded and looked away. “Mariah said I should talk to you, tell you how I managed to adapt. I can try, but it’s going to have to be you doing the hard work, ok?” Beka nodded. She knew that anyway.

“Do you ever get over it?” she asked quietly. Adna shook her head.

“You don’t get over it,” she said seriously, “you get used to it. The sooner you learn to block the feelings out and separate yourself from your job, the better. Try to think of it as…what did you use to do before you came here?”

“I was a pilot,” Beka said shortly, not wanting to give any details as to where she was a pilot. The Andromeda, no matter how much she missed it, was her past. Adna gave her an impressed look.

“Wow,” she said sincerely, “that must have been pretty cool. But anyway, when you piloted, running cargo or whatever you did, that was a job, right? The thing with…our job…is that it’s meant to be something personal, something you enjoy, with someone you love. It’s harder to distance yourself, but it’s not impossible. I’m here for you, ok?” Beka nodded, feeling slightly better. This woman had done it. So could she.